The Origins of Friendship
by Nonny The Anon One
Summary: A story of how Danny, Sam and Tucker may have first met and became friends.


**5-4-08 This isn't a new story, just edited and changed and I don't know I'd like to hear from readers, hopefully I can be prompted to write again.**

The Origins of Friendship

Eight year old Danny wiped his eyes as his father drove the family R.V away from the only home he'd ever known, a little apartment on Front street. They drove past the park where he played with his best friends Robert and Earl and the tears flowed free.

"I know this is going to be a tough adjustment period for you, Danny," his ten year old sister, Jazz began in a very grown up tone. "But we're moving to a house in Amity Park. It has one of the best educational systems in the state." Danny merely looked at his sister like she'd grown three heads then wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

He missed his friends already. He couldn't imagine meeting anyone better or more fun than Robert and Earl. He patted his front pocket. Robert had given him three baby teeth and Earl had given him his last chocolate bar. In the life of a seven year old boy, you couldn't get more loyal than that.

"Danny, Sweetie," his mother Maddie chided from the front seat. "Don't wipe your nose on your clothes. She handed Danny a tissue and looked at him tenderly.

"Amity Park is going to be great!" Jack, his father announced loudly for the millionth time. Danny felt that if his father was trying that hard to convince him and that Amity Park was going to be horrible.

"Dad, Danny's developmental capabilities do not allow him to comprehend your assurances of well being," Jazz told her father as she looked up from the thick psychology book she was reading. "He's going to fear the unknown no matter what you say."

Danny groaned and closed his eyes and he leaned back in his seat. He wondered why he had to have such a loser for a sister and more over, why did they have to move? He was perfectly content on the little two bedroom apartment. So what if the neighbors occasionally (bi-weekly), complained about the noise his dad made when he worked on ghost hunting equipment. So what if they were angry at a few small explosions. It was home. He was comfortable and happy. He wanted to go back. Tears began to fill his eyes again and he closed them, promptly falling to sleep.

When he woke, it was to the shrill voice of his sister lecturing their father on the importance of a good first impression. Danny wanted her to shut up. Their Dad was the coolest dad on the planet. No one was as funny and smart as Jack Fenton in Danny's eyes and the fact that Jazz was obviously embarrassed by him, made Danny uncomfortable.

"Don't worry Jazzypants," Jack said as he sped into traffic, sliding haphazardly through cars, ignoring the honking horns and yells he left in his wake. "Jack Fenton knows how to make a good first impression. Isn't that right Maddie my love?"

"It sure is," Maddie answered as she gave her husband a loving look. Jazz rolled her eyes then turned and noticed Danny was awake.

"And you," Jazz started sternly. "Can you not be so….weird."

"I'm not weird," Danny denied as he brushed the dark hair out of his deep blue eyes. Jazz sighed and then began asking their mother why they hadn't got Danny hair cut.

"There wasn't time, Sweetie," Maddie told her patiently.

"Of course not," Jazz started as she threw up her hands in exasperation. "Is there ever?"

Maddie gave Jazz an irritated look then turned back to the road. "Watch out, Jack!" she yelled as the R.V. careened through an intersection almost side swiping a black limousine.

"Learn to drive Thurston!" Jack yelled as he shook his fist out the window at the sleek black car.

"Go Dad!" Danny cheered as he threw up his arms.

"Oh man," Jazz said as she covered her face with her hands. "Why was I born into such a crazy family?"

* * *

Danny regarded his new home with wide eyes. It was huge. His bedroom was three times the size of the one he'd shared with Jazz. He stood in the midst of boxes filled with his toys and the furniture already in place wearing an expression of complete awe.

He smiled as he imagined all the wonderful things he could now do that he hadn't had the freedom to before. It was his room, and his alone. He could hang rockets and read comic books into the small hours of the morning. He could keep his own council and secrets without his nosey, annoying sister breathing down his neck at all times.

His mother had thoughtfully painted it blue, and his new bed was to have blue bedding. Blue was his favorite color. He never wanted to see pink again, for pink was the color of Jazz's room. She had been born before him which had given him little choice in key décor decisions. He'd always felt like a guest in the room he had shared with Jazz and he decided that maybe moving wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Young Danny walked down the huge hall of a massive building which had been renovated into a house by his parents. It had an almost deco-art warehouse feel, but he liked it. His mother was so awesome he conceded to himself.

He stopped at a door with a large plaque which read, "Jazz's Room". He opened the door carefully, stuck his head inside and nearly wretched. It looked like a bottle of Pepto-Bismal had vomited in the room. He wrinkled his nose and backed out as he decided he wouldn't be bugging Jazz too much.

Danny made his way downstairs. He'd already been through the living room so he checked out the kitchen very scientific looking kitchen and then startled as he heard voices. He followed the sound of people talking down to the basement where he found his mother and father.

"Wow," Danny said in awe as he looked around at all the gadgets and devices.

"What do you think, Son?" Jack asked as he beamed proudly at his son.

"Totally cool," Danny said in wonderment as he smoothed his fingers along one of the tables against the wall.

"Totally dangerous," Jazz commented from the top of the stairs. "I can see Danny getting caught in one of your devices and electrocuted."

"Not my Danny," Jack boomed confidently. "He knows better than to go touching things in the lab without permission. Right, Son?"

"Yup," Danny agreed as he continued to look around with wide blue eyes. Life was going to be great!

* * *

"Oh Sammykins," Pamela Manson cooed as she adjusted the pink bow in her daughter's hair then adjusted a few wayward jet black strands back in to one of the long black sausage curls laying in a gorgeous, glossy mass down her back and smiled. "You look so precious."

Sammykins, the girl in question, sat staring into space with a look of extreme disgust and annoyance on her face. Her mother continued to fuss happily as she fluffed the young girl's pink organdy skirt, adjusted the white ankle socks and buffed a small scuff mark from her white dress shoes.

"Mommy, I am not Sammykins. I am Sam," she corrected stubbornly.

"You are Mommy's princess, Samantha" Pamela told her daughter sternly as she placed her hand on her daughter's chin and forced her daughter to meet her gaze. "I don't ask much of you my darling. I simply ask you to make a nice impression. A child is a direct reflection of her parents and vice versa. It's very important that we, as Manson's, are viewed in a respectable light. Your father's place in this community is very important.

"Yes, Mommy," Sam said then cast her angry gaze down to the floor as she clasped her glove clad hands in her lap. She hated wearing pink dresses and she hated it when her mother fussed with her hair, something which she seemed to do endlessly. Sam wanted freedom. She looked out the window and sighed, promising someday, she'd be able to just be herself. She wouldn't care what anyone else thought.

"Come now, Samantha," Pamela said as she held out her hand to her seven year old daughter. "We have errands to run. Our first order of business is as official greeters to new members of the community."

Sam sighed. That explained the fancy new dress and being primped and curled within an inch of her life. Her mother wanted to make an impression and show people how affluent and perfect the Manson family of Amity Park was.

Sam recognized the building they stopped in front of. She and her best friend, Tucker had watched it being renovated. They had been impressed by the big sign which read Fenton Works. They made bets on what it meant. Sam was sure it was going to be office space. Tucker's opinion it was going to be a furniture store. When it turned out someone was going to live there they were surprised.

"Sammykins," Pamela said importantly as the limousine door opened. Sam considered protesting. She felt very uncomfortable in the fussy pink dress and she wished that she found a way to rip it or get it dirty before getting into the car. She had been given little choice. Her mother was determined she was going to be a pampered, pretty, pink, pretentious princess. Sam grumbled.

Her mother held a large gift basket on her arm, standard issue from the Amity Park Tri-Neighborhood Welcoming Committee, of which Mrs. Manson was president. Sam watched as she fluffed her perfectly coifed red hair then pasted on a glowing smile and rang the bell.

The door open and an extremely large, intimidating man in a neon orange appeared and scowled at them. If Mrs. Manson was thrown off guard, Sam couldn't tell.

"Hi," Pamela said perkily. "I'm Pamela Manson president of the Amity Park Tri-Neighborhood Welcoming Committee. Welcome to the neighborhood." She handed Jack the basket and he eyed it with interest.

"Any fudge in there?" Jack asked as he poked at the basket, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"I-I don't think so," Pam answered as she blinked at Jack in bewilderment at the fact that he ignored her outstretched hand.

"Maddie!" Jack yelled over his shoulders. "We have company. It's the neighbors."

"They don't have pitchforks and axes do they?" came a sweet voice in reply from behind Jack. He moved to the side to reveal a curvaceous auburn haired woman in a teal jumpsuit.

"Hi," the woman said as she locked eyes with Sam's mother. The sweetness in her voice rivaled that of Pamela Manson, but surpassed it in being genuine. "Maddie Fenton. You've met my husband, Jack, and you are?"

Pamela faltered slightly then brightened and introduced herself and Sam. Maddie pushed Jack, who was already digging through the gift basket, aside and invited Pam and her daughter in.

"Please pardon the mess," Maddie began gently as she motioned for them to sit on the couch. "We are not entirely organized as of yet."

Pam sat down prim and proper, holding on to Sam's hand for dear life. Sam herself was mesmerized by Maddie Fenton. The woman was standing, arms akimbo, head up, eyes alert. Her posture screamed, "I'm a strong confident woman, do not cross me!" She was everything Sam wanted to be.

"And you are?" Maddie asked as she turned her deep violet eyes to Sam.

"This is my daughter, Samantha," Pam interrupted. Sam took in Maddie's flash of irritation with curiosity.

"My friend's call me, Sam. I'm seven.," Sam told her bravely.

"Pleased to meet you, Sam," Maddie said tenderly. "My son Danny is your age." She looked around thoughtfully. "He's around somewhere."

"What do you do for a living?" Pam asked curiously.

"We are professional ghost hunters," Jack answered as he wiped out a large gun and brandished it at Sam's mother.

Pam gasped and put her hand to her chest. "Professional what?"

"Ghost hunters," Maddie repeated eagerly. "Jack put that away, you're going to frighten Sam." Sam herself was no where near frightened, her eyes were gleaming with interest. She loved ghosts and ghost stories.

"Have you seen any ghosts around Amity Park?" Jack asked Pamela dangerously.

"N-no," She answered as she eyed him warily then looked to Maddie who whipped a device from seemingly out of the blue and began to scan Pam and Sam.

"Our interest lie in capturing ghosts and studying them, learning about their power sources and how exactly they manifest themselves in our world, given their nature," Maddie started. "We know they are nothing but ectoplasmic leftovers, but why."

"Ghosts don't exist," Pamela declared as she watched Jack fiddling with the large gun he was holding. She swallowed hard and gripped Sam's hand.

"Oh they exist Pamela," Maddie told her with complete assurance.

Despite the fact that her mother was currently crushing her hand, Sam took the opportunity to look around the room, and that's when she spotted him. A small, pale boy with impossibly blue eyes and shaggy black hair, peering down fro the top of the stairs.

Half hoping for Maddie's approval, Sam said as she pointed, "Is that a ghost?"

"A ghost!" Jack exclaimed in excitement as he pressed a button on his gun. It buzzed to life and he took on a fighter's stance, looking around eagerly.

Maddie laughed as she put her hand on Jack's arm to still him. "That's not a ghost, Sam. That's Danny." She looked sternly at Jack. "Danny is not a ghost."

Sam looked toward the shy boy standing on the stairs watching her like a deer caught in headlights. She smiled at him and he smiled weakly in return. Sam was about to stand and go over to him when her mother stood and jerked her hand and attention back to matters at hand.

"Samantha and I must be going," Pam said coolly. She bade the Fentons goodbye and ushered her daughter into the limousine.

"They seemed nice," Jack said to Maddie who smiled sweetly.

Jazz ran up from down the street where she had been exploring when she saw the limousine parked in front of her house. Her jaw dropped as she caught sight of Sam, who truly did look like a princess decked out as she was and Sam's mother getting into their transportation.

"I cannot believe the riffraff they are allowing into the neighborhood," she heard Pamela say to Sam. "These are precisely the kind of people we don't want you associating with."

"Mom!" Jazz growled as she watched the visitors speed away with squealing tires. "What did you and Dad do?"

"We were just ourselves," Maddie answered as Jazz watched what she considered a possible friendship speed out of her life, ruined by her parent's ghost insanity.

"Did you have to be?" Jazz asked wistfully.

* * *

Sam ignored their mother and her lecture on the proper kind of people she should be associating with as they drove home. In her mind she was already upstairs in her room, out of her disgusting dress and in her purple pants and black shirt. Pamela fingered her curls absently as she was prone to doing and Sam pulled away in exasperation.

"Be sure to hang up your dress," Pam called as Sam ran upstairs. Sam said nothing. She shut the door behind her, feeling embarrassed at her mother's shallowness, especially after meeting such warm, real and cool people like the Fentons.

She unzipped her dress in order to change then frowned as her hair caught in her zipper. Sam growled in impatience, she didn't want to call for help so she looked around. Her eyes caught a pair of safety scissors on her desk and she grabbed them, cut the hair out of her zipper then changed quickly.

Sam couldn't ignore idea blossoming in her sharp seven year old mind. An idea about freedom. Freedom to be who she wanted to be and no one else. Freedom from the frills and fussing and her mother's constant unwanted teachings on how she should see the world. Her eyes caught on the scissors as her fingers twirled her hair.

She had to honest, the long black hair growing past her waist was pretty, very pretty. It was the envy of half the girls in her class. The same girls were always asking to brush and braid it, girls she despised for their shallow and insipid ways, caring more than anything about dolls, dresses and makeup. She wanted more.

Sam cared about the world, the environment, recycling and animals. She loved animals and though her mother didn't approve, Sam was stubborn, and she'd been a vegetarian for over a year, which was a life time in the mind of such a young girl.

The scissors were quickly snatched from her desk as Sam ran into her bathroom, closed and locked the door. She couldn't be afford to be caught by her maid. The woman meant well but she would just tell on her. She needed to move fast.

"Come on, Sam," she said to herself as she looked at her beautiful masses of curls in the mirror. "Have courage!" She frowned a moment then lifted a handful of hair and began snipping away with the dull little scissors. When she was done, hair was everywhere, on the floor, on the sink, on her cloths and itchy on her face, but Sam felt happier and ten times lighter. She felt like she could fly. She felt free.

Sam made a million resolutions as she fingered her now extremely short almost boyish hair. One, the Fentons were exactly the kind of people she wanted to be like. Two, she was never going to grow her hair out long again and three, from now on she was going to be her own person, her mother's hysterics be damned.

Walking out of the bathroom at that moment, wearing a huge smile on her face, was a big mistake. Her mother had just come out of the closet after hanging up Sam's dress. She took one look at Sam and screamed in horror.

Sam's confidence faltered slightly as her mother sobbed, "What have you done to your hair, Sammykins?"

It was the hated nickname which gave her courage. "I hate having long hair," she told her mother defiantly. "I decided I wanted it short, so I cut it."

"And you thought that was all right?" Pam asked angrily. "To just cut your hair without my permission."

Sam's lilac eyes sparked as she met her mother's cold, pale blue glare. "It's my hair! Not yours!"

"And you're my daughter little missy," Pam spat. "You'll do as you're told! You're grounded for the rest of the weekend. No Tucker. No park. No going outside. You will stay home and write a report on the comportment of a proper young lady . Sam lifted her chin, not being able to see Tucker until the start of school on Monday was a loss, but she decided her freedom was worth it.

* * *

Tucker Foley was walking down the street, completely absorbed in the new hand held digital game that his mother had bought him for his birthday. He was only vaguely aware of where he was going as mentally he defended the galaxy from evil aliens.

It wasn't until he ran into a running figure, which sent his game flying and himself scrambling on the ground that his attention was diverted to the world around him.

"Why don't you watch where you're going!" he shouted in irritation as he grabbed his blue baseball hat, slipped it backward back on his head then looked around for his game.

"Watch where I'm going?" The smallish kid with black hair and startling blue eyes teased as he helped Tucker gather himself together. "You were the one who wasn't watching where you were going."

Tucker smiled wryly as the boy handed him his game, and slipped it into the pocket of his yellow shirt. Then let the boy help him up off the ground.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tucker answered as he checked for the other game he'd stowed in his pants pocket, sighing in relief when he found it in working order.

"My name is Tucker, Tucker Foley," he said when he finally turned his attention back to the new kid.

"Danny Fenton," the kid answered almost shyly.

"You just move here?" Tucker asked. "I've never seen you around before."

"Yeah," Danny said then pointed down the street to Fenton Works. "That's my house."

Tucker followed Danny's finger and he smiled. "Sam and I were wondering what that was. You live there?"

"Yup," Danny said then sighed. "I do now."

"Sam and I had a bet on what the building was going to be." Tucker continued wistfully. "I guess we both lost. Even bet."

"Sam?" Danny asked.

"My best friend, Sam." Tucker answered. "It really sucks, we're going to be in different classes this year. We've were hoping we'd just always be together until we graduated, but oh well, we're still best friends."

"That's cool," Danny said feeling a pang of homesickness as he thought of the friends he'd left behind.

"Are you a vegetarian?" Tucker asked from out of the blue. "Cause Sam's a vegetarian, and I don't know if I could handle another vegetarian friend."

Danny shook his head. "I never eat vegetables."

"Me either!" Tucker said brightly. "I hate them!"

"Me too!" Danny agreed happily. "But my stupid sister makes me eat them. She says if I don't I'll have clogged arteries by the time I'm ten. She's such a dork."

"You have a sister?" Tucker asked his eyes wide in amazement.

"Unfortunately," Danny answered dramatically. "She's disgusting. Two years older. Think she knows everything!"

"Sam and I are both only children. We say that we're related, but we're kinda not." Tucker said as he followed Danny into Fenton Works.

"Come upstairs," Danny invited. "I'll show you my room."

Danny ended the day feeling happy as Tucker went home. They promised to meet up at school and Tucker would introduce him to the mysterious Sam, who Tucker talked about nonstop. Danny sighed and hoped Sam was as nice a boy as Tucker and that they'd have room for him in their friendship, he really liked Tucker.

* * *

Danny was extremely pleased the next day at school, as he stood nervously in his new school. He was going to share a class with Tucker, even better the teacher had arraigned the seating alphabetically, so Tucker sat right behind him.

Tucker was happy too. He liked Danny and he and Sam had talked about the difficulty of adding more friends, considering half the population of the school were weirdos, as Sam called them.

"You'll get to meet Sam at recess," Tucker told Danny after the teacher forced him to hang up his hat. "It's going to be great! You, Sam and me are going to make a great team, I can feel it in my tones."

"You're tones?" Danny asked in confusion.

"Yeah my tones!" Tucker said. "Like when you know something mysteriously and you don't know how, it's called feeling it in your tones!"

"Oh," Danny replied and gave Tucker a weird look.

They were released for recess and Tucker pulled Danny outside, a eager smile of anticipation on his face. Danny assumed Tucker was looking for Sam, so he scanned the playground trying to see if he could peg the amazing boy Sam before Tucker pointed him out.

Danny's attention was diverted from a search for boys by a girl. She had short black hair and beautiful purple eyes. Danny thought he recognized her, but she wasn't sure. She looked up at him and smiled kindly then began walking his way.

"Tucker," Danny said as he grabbed the other boys arm. "She's coming this way! What do I do?"

"What?" Tucker asked as he turned to look at Danny in confusion.

"She's beautiful," Danny told him. "I don't know how to talk to beautiful girls."

"What?" Tucker questioned as he continued to look around, his attention caught at the thought of seeing a beautiful girl. He personally thought all girls were gross, but then again he'd never seen a beautiful one before, so his interest was piqued.

"That girl!" Danny said as he gestured toward Sam, who was still quite a distance away.

Tucker wrinkled his nose. "That's not a girl!" he scoffed. "That's Sam!" Danny's jaw dropped. The amazing and brilliant Sam, the major hero in all of Tucker's stories, was a girl?

"She's not pretty," Tucker said. Then looked around and smiled then pointed at the tall red headed girl standing by the swings, apparently taking notes. "Now there is a pretty girl."

Danny followed his friends line of site, it was his turn to grimace. "Dude that isn't a girl," he said. "That's my sister."

"Oh!" Tucker said then swallowed hard. "Sorry, but she is kinda pretty." Danny looked at Tucker like he was an alien then turned as Sam stopped in front of him.

"Hi, Tuck," she said not looking away from Danny.

"Yo, Sam," Tucker replied cheerfully. "What happened to your hair?"

"I cut it," Sam answered happily as she continued to look Danny up and down.

"You're mom must have had a spasm attack!" Tucker gasped and Sam gave him an indulgent look. "They must have had to put her on twenty valuants."

"It's valium," Sam corrected as she turned her lilac eyes back to Danny's face. "All I know is she grounded me for the weekend and went to lie down cause she had a migrant."

"I know you from somewhere," Danny said as he tried to place her face, not knowing how he knew her, just knowing he knew her.

Sam smiled wickedly. "Yeah," she told him. "My mother and I came over to your house this weekend. I was that thing dressed in vomit pink."

"That was you?" Danny asked then frowned sadly, momentarily mourning the loss of the hair he'd thought was so incredibly pretty before becoming lost in her beautiful eyes once more.

"Yup," Sam replied as she gave him a worried look. She blinked at him a moment and Tucker took the opportunity for introductions.

"Sam this is Danny Fenton, he's way cool. We met on Sunday. He hates vegetables too and…"

"Another carnivore eh?" Sam said then shook her head.

"And Danny this is Sam, I told you all about her. She'll kick your butt at basketball." Tucker said happily.

"Which I will do gladly," Sam said proudly. She smiled warmly at Danny who smiled back then walked toward the basketball court.

Tucker and Danny followed Sam and all three were thinking the same thing, "I've got great friends."

The End


End file.
